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by chelsjadexox



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: A few man tears my bad, Comfort, Fluff, Gryles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 05:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8315200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelsjadexox/pseuds/chelsjadexox
Summary: He loved his parents, and he loved that they cared enough to fawn over him the second he walked through the front door, but after travelling so far all the singer wanted to do was crawl into a comfortable bed and be given some time to adjust back to life at home. And that was how Harry Styles found himself at Nick Grimshaw’s front door at 11pm on a Tuesday night.





	

Coming home after being away for any extended period of time was meant to be a happy occasion. Seeing your parents and your sister after nearly six months of being away for work was meant to be something you look forward to, but for Harry Styles the whole experience couldn’t have been more anxiety inducing. It was one thing to have thousands of screaming girls fussing and crying over him, but when it came to his own parents – he couldn’t handle it. Maybe it was the years of forced independence thrust upon him, or maybe it was just because he couldn’t stand the sight of his mum crying, but either way that first night home was always the worst. He loved his parents, and he loved that they cared enough to fawn over him the second he walked through the front door, but after travelling so far all the singer wanted to do was crawl into a comfortable bed and be given some time to adjust back to life at home. And that was how he found himself at Nick Grimshaw’s front door at 11pm on a Tuesday night. 

The fact that his friend had work at the crack of dawn didn’t occur to Harry as he trudged up Nick’s front steps with his suitcase trailing behind him, an exhausted sigh slipping past his lips as he pressed the doorbell and took a step back. If there was one thing Harry had gotten good at, it was getting in and out of his home country without anyone – including his friends and family – knowing he was coming or going, so the surprised look on Nick’s face as he opened his front door should have been expected.

“Hey, Grimmy.” Harry’s voice was quiet in the dark around them, the dull porch light making each of Nick’s features seem far softer than Harry remembered. It never ceased to catch the singer off guard that Nick’s home was the address he immediately told the taxi driver as he exited the airport, the words seeming to leave his mouth on their own accord when he tried to think of the most relaxing, homely place he could be.

“Hey yourself.” Nick smiled back without a second of hesitation, glancing down at the suitcase Harry was still holding onto before sighing quietly and extending his arms on pure instinct. Harry didn’t have to think twice as he let go of the plastic suitcase, immediately wrapping his arms around his friend’s middle and closing his eyes as an overwhelming sense of calm washed over him. He didn’t have to ask if he could stay, the hand that was moving soothingly over the expanse of his back gently pulling away and reaching for his suitcase before he knew it. “You alright?”

It wasn’t often that Harry could let silence linger, his brain always jumping in screaming at him to fill the void before any sort of awkward tension fell upon himself and whoever he was with. He never seemed to feel that with Nick, the silence that fell between the two as Harry followed him into the familiar home seeming to seep with nothing but total comfort. This had all but become a routine for the two of them, Nick knowing all too well not to ask why Harry was at his front door with his suitcase instead of his parents’, instead leading him down the hallway and into his bedroom.

“You got new curtains.” Harry noted, his voice still low and thick with tiredness as Nick turned to look at him with raised eyebrows. If anyone was going to note the most mundane change in his home – of course it was going to be Harry Styles. There wasn’t anyone else who spent time in his bedroom as much as the singer seemed to, so the fact it seemed to be somewhat of a surprise to Nick that he’d noticed was beyond Harry.

The radio host moved to lay comfortably in his bed, his eyes never once leaving Harry as the singer shuffled through his dresser drawers. There was a slight frown pulling at his features as he searched, Nick biting down on his bottom lip gently to fight back a chuckle before he stood up and made his way to where Harry was struggling.

“Here.” Nick laughed quietly, though there was no judgement or genuine teasing behind the words as he moved to the one drawer Harry was yet to go through, pulling out an old t-shirt that he only kept for when Harry made one of his surprise visits. Every muscle in the musicians face relaxed the second the shirt was in his hands, his eyes glued on the faded black material before he sighed and stripped out of his clothes. As soon as the shirt was over his head, he pulled all of his long brown hair up into a messy bun on top of his head, pulling on the legs of his briefs until they were sitting more comfortably against his thighs.

“Can I ask you something?” Harry mused as he turned off the overhead light in the room, plunging them into comfortable darkness before he turned on the expensive piece of art he’d purchased for his friend with a small smile. The blue light that lit up the space around them was soft, the perfect mood lighting as Harry moved to crawl into the bed.

“Mm?” Nick asked once the singer was comfortably wrapped up in the duvet, nothing but his eyes visible as he hid the rest of his face under the blanket. There wasn’t much that Nick didn’t know about the musician, most of his reactions to things Harry said or did at this point seeming to just be pure instinct.

“Why do you always open the door for me?” Harry asked, the question muffled by the blanket but still able to be heard by the man who had heard him mumble his way through endless late night conversations.

“You know why.” Nick whispered, his expression softening as he reached forward to pull the blanket down so he could see the rest of the singer’s face. The comment lingered in the air around them as Harry swallowed hard, nodding his head and sighing quietly. The relationship between the two had never been normal, but the fact it was Nick’s bed he crawled into when he was craving home was a fact that stuck with them both on a daily basis.

“Can I ask you something?” Nick couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the question, his hand resting on the younger man’s face, his thumb tracing gently over his cheekbone before moving to lightly touch his bottom lip. “Why haven’t you left me? Everyone leaves when they get to know me the way you have. Everyone leaves. Why haven’t you?” The words were barely above a whisper, the tinge of pain in his friends voice causing the smile that was on Nick’s face instantly fell, the radio host shuffling their bodies closer together so their noses were only just touching. The words were a rare insight into just how emotional and insecure the musician was, the fact he actually seemed to be surprised that Nick was still around making his heart sink into the pits of his chest.

“You know why.” Nick repeated, causing Harry’s eyes to close of their own accord. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck, the non-stop touring coupled with the jetlag he was experiencing making it hard for him to be bothered holding back like they always did. The cuddling was normal, the whispered words were normal, and the soft touch of noses brushing against one another was normal – but tonight it wasn’t enough.

“I think about you a lot.” Harry admitted, keeping his eyes closed in hopes of keeping himself safe despite the fact that he knew he was nothing but when he was with Nick. “Think about us a lot.” He clarified, tilting his head just enough for the older man to feel the slightest brush of warm lips against his own as he spoke.

“You’re tired.” Nick whispered, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Harry’s ear, the words causing the singer to blink his eyes open slowly. Nick could feel his own heartbeat hammering against his chest, the conversation that was taking place one they had never dared to have before.

“I am tired.” Harry agreed, pulling back just far enough to meet Nick’s eyes before he dared to continue. “I’m tired of giving the driver your address when I want to come home when this – I have no right to think of this as my home. I – I’m tired of acting as though this doesn’t mean something.” Silence fell around them again, Nick’s eyes blinking across at him as if he needed more from the singer, needed to actually hear the words Harry was dancing around. When it became obvious that he wasn’t going to continue, Nick knew he was struggling with it and was going to have to help him get there.

“I was going to move. About a month ago, I was looking at some places closer to work,” The radio host started, moving his hand to rest on Harry’s waist. “And then I came home and I got into bed and you just popped into my mind. This was the bedroom I carried you to when you were drunk off your ass and couldn’t walk, the bedroom where you sobbed for an hour when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, the bedroom where we laughed until 4am and nearly got me kicked out because of all the noise.” Harry couldn’t help but smile at the memory, though it slowly faded when he noted that there wasn’t a hint of amusement on his friends face.

“This was the bedroom where I realised that…” Nick trailed off, his eyes shifting between the singer’s eyes and his lips before swallowing hard. “Where I realised you were the only person I ever wanted to crawl into bed with.” He admitted, butterflies rolling through his stomach when Harry’s whole bod seemed to collapse into his own. The singer buried his face in Nick’s neck, his eyes squeezed shut tightly as an overwhelming amount of relief flooded his system.

It wasn’t until Nick felt the subtle shaking of his friends body that he realised Harry was crying.

“Hey,” he frowned in worry, pulling back even as Harry tried to bury himself further into Nick’s body. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen his friend cry, but it was the first time that he’d seen the small smile that came with the tears.

“Everything I need I get from you.” Harry breathed, hiccuping slightly as he struggled to take back the reigns from the emotions washing over him. It took Nick a second before he caught on, the lyrics singing in his mind as a warm smile tugged at his lips.

“I love you too.” The words did nothing but cause a fresh onslaught of sobs to rip from Harry’s chest, the singer leaning forward and pressing their lips together messily as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Tear drops trickled down his face to where his lips met Nick’s, the salty taste not seeming to taint the moment in the slightest as Harry let go of every insecurity and every sense of not being enough leave his body.

“Get some sleep, love. I’ll cook us breakfast in the morning and we can have a nice, proper talk.” Nick promised, leaning forward to press another soft kiss to his friend’s lips before nudging his hip so he’d roll over. Nick slid his body closer until the entire length of their bodies were lined up perfectly, their fingers lacing together where they came to rest on Harry’s abdomen.

After so, so many years of not only having to hold back who he really was but also struggling through so many dead end, painful relationships – he felt at peace. Nick’s presence was always a place he felt safe, where he felt totally comfortable to be exactly who he was, but there was always something lingering in the air when they were together that made it hard to breathe. Harry always found it hard to breathe, the pressure that came from his work and the people he loved making it impossible to not feel as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

Now? Now Harry felt like he could breathe for the first time in his life.


End file.
